The Lady Of Ambrosia
by silver topaz
Summary: Lady Penelope of Ambrosia is sent to stay with her uncle Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot while the threat of a coup rises up in Ambrosia. After her family's murder she stays on in Camelot, but trouble and strife follow her even to there.


This story is a fanfic based off Merlin, a BBC TV series. If you haven't seen or heard of this series you may need to look it up on Wikipedia to understand The Lady Of Ambrosia.

It centres around an O.C. of mine- Lady Penelope, Princess of Ambrosia a far neighbouring country to the south of Camelot.

Uther Pendragon is related to her as her uncle, and she is sent by her father to stay with him until the threat of a coup in Ambrosia settles down.

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_The Lady Of Ambrosia - Chapter One._

A shrill cry pierced the cold night air and then all went quiet. Footsteps pounded the stone pavement along a corridor, men were frantically yelling and running up large staircases to the uppermost point of the North Tower. The alarm sounded loud and urgent against the night, the King and Queen of Ambrosia had been murdered in their sleep, and the murderer must be caught. A soldier ran up to his superior, Sirien- head of the castle guards- he needed some answers.

Sirien was sitting on a stool with a damp cloth binding his head, his stare was empty but his eyes were filled with horror. He had been guarding the door to the King and Queen's chambers at the time of their death, and was the only one who could have seen what happened.

"Captain of the Guard Sirien, sir!" the Soldier started, but Sirien held up his hand in a gesture for silence. Slowly lowering his hand, Sirien looked to the soldier. He knew what the man was here for, how could he not? His eyes moved back to the bed where the two lifeless bodies lay, and spoke.

"There was a noise. It wasn't much.. I didn't think much of it.." The powerful man struggling to find his voice was a pitiful sight. "I went to look, expecting a rat.. But there was eyes. Red eyes. Dark as the colour of dried blood, they.. glistened in the torch light. And then I was on the ground with a soldier shaking me to wake."

By now Sirien's own eyes were tortured, his expression fill with pain and self loathing for failing his duty.

"Were there any other guards on duty with you?" The soldier Erinn, who was second soldier in command pressed.

"I did not hear any, though there was men listed to guard the south end of the staircase tonight." His thoughts were coming back together now, Sirien's mind started to click like a trained soldier, the Captain of the Guard, instead of a frightened civilian's.

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Hot flames of a camp-fire flickered in the darkness, warming the air around it and lighting the immediate area in which it was built. Worn hands lifted a kettle from an overhanging stake, and poured hot water into metal cups, waving away the steam that rose into the woman's face. Childish laughter rang out behind the woman, startling her and nearly causing her to drop hot water in her lap. She fumbled with the kettle trying to steady it on her knees without splashing contents of the cups on the ground when a pair of slender hands took it from her.

"Hilda let me take this. It'd do no good for you to procure a burn now. We're still half a days journey from Camelot and you are yet to care for the children."

The woman looked up into anxious eyes set in the beautiful face of her master, Lady Penelope of Ambrosia.

Though it had been solely a statement Hilda felt compelled to speak, "Yes. Thank you my Lady. I'll see to it that the children don't get underfoot or disturb you."

"Oh no, that isn't what I meant," Lady Penelope's eyes filled will mirth at the realisation she had spoken unclearly. "You're the only woman in the escort party, and it's clear from my earlier venture that I do not properly know how to care for a baby." The woman laughed while Penelope re-enacted the way she had been dissarayed by Grace, a six month old baby travelling with them. The sight of the Lady staring bemused at a child who was staring right back had been enough to send Hilda into gales of laughter. It hadn't been long before Penelope decided to give the baby back to her mother on the other side of the carriage.

"I think she's as much infatuated with you as the rest of Ambrosia," Hilda laughed. It was well known to the two women that Penelope couldn't go anywhere without being stared at, even when she was dressed in peasantry cloth she was a sight to be seen.

It had been that way since childhood, and she had successfully kept her identity from all but two of the townspeople while visiting the world outside. Hilda and her late-mother, Allura had found Penelope huddled in an alley way after getting lost on one of her earlier capers and after coaxing her to tell them her identity, pointed her back to the castle promising they wouldn't say a word about seeing her. And so Penelope had made her first friends outside the castle walls, going back to see them as often as she could, sometimes in royal garbs other times in borrowed peasant clothing.

"And here I thought all those years they were staring at you," the younger woman teased right back.

"Right, now what's this folly going on here?" A deep voice boomed from the other side of the camp-fire, "and why do I smell burning flesh?"

"Oh!" Hilda cried out in dismay, removing the spit from the flames as quickly as she could, "we were so caught up in conversation that I kept no mind for the meat."

Laughing something about women and talking, Knight Elric helped his wife move the charred meat to a makeshift table a few meters from the fire. They were a perfect match in both personality and appearance. Hilda was kind and gentle with melting chocolate eyes that could entice the most stubborn of men, Knight Elric was the most stubborn of men melted by Hilda along with her amiable nature. Both were attractive in their own right, and had passed these traits on to their children who were now being called to the table for dinner. Penelope sighed inwardly at the sight of the small, content family gathering together for an occurrence even as simple as an evening meal. It had been many years since her own family had been able to do the same thing, as her brother had died at the age of fourteen when she was none but eleven years of age.

She continued to watch the family throughout the night until she went to her tent quarters to rest, her mind then drifting back to home and her parents. Her father had sent her away in a hurry but had not said why, and over that Penelope found worry that disturbed her sleep into the early hours of the morning.


End file.
